A Day in a Year
by lostmusicnote8
Summary: Sam and Dean's daily lives and adventures.


**A.N- I'm going to try to update once a week. Wincest warning. You can find this story on Figment, WattPad and also FanFiction. **

**Disclaimer- I don't own Supernatural. I also do not own any books, movies, or music mentioned in this story. **

Sam woke up with a start. It was so cold in his motel room he could see his breath. The heater he had fixed earlier wasn't running anymore. "_Some heater." _Sam mumbled, his lips too cold to form any words right. What is a heater worth if it breaks every time it gets cold? The tall man looked over at the empty, and neatly made bed that was next to him. It was a habit of his to still buy the room with a second bed even though Dean was gone. Not dead gone. But he'd left Sam, again.

There wasn't an alarm clock in the room so Sam didn't know what time it was. He picked up his phone from the nightstand, his big fingers clumsily hit a random button on it. The time popped up in white numbers as 12:49. He'd have to get that heater going again. Sam made a mental note to never return to Maine. It was only November and already below freezing. Cold weather, unhealthy food and all for a case that turned out to be a flop. A familiar buzzing sound came from the phone in Sam's hand. It was most likely Bobby again. He'd been calling almost daily to see how Sam was doing after Dean left the both of them a few weeks ago. Sam answered the phone without looking at the caller ID.

"Hey, Bobby." he sighed tiredly. Hopefully this conversation wouldn't take long so he could fix the heater and get back to bed.

"Sam! It's Garth." The werewolves voice came across the line. It was high-pitched and peppy, like it always was.

"Oh, Garth... Why're you calling? It's late." Conversations with Garth always took awhile, once he started talking who knows when he would stop. Not that he was boring, he definitely wasn't boring. The scrawny man just had a lot to say about _everything_.

"It's only 10:50!" Garth was obviously forgetting about the time differences... again. "But really why I'm calling is because Deans here." his voice got serious, like something bad had happened to Sam's brother.

"Deans there? Is he alright?" Sam stopped himself from asking anymore questions about Dean so that he didn't seemed overly worried. He then shook his head even though he knew Garth couldn't see anything he did. "Dean and I don't hunt together anymore. He quit. If he's there he should've told you."

"He told me a lot of things... That wasn't one of them. If I'd of known I wouldn't have called."

"No, its fine. But he's alright?" Stop it, Sam warned himself.

"He's sorta passed put on my couch."

"_What_?"

"Well he came over and we decided to have a couple of beers and next thing I know-"

"Next thing you know _what_? Last time I checked my brother could hold his alcohol pretty well. Did you drug him?"

"I wouldn't drug him, Sam."

"You know what, this isn't really my problem anymore. I gotta go, Garth." Sam spit out a bit sharply and rude. He hung up, making sure Garth couldn't say another word.

xxx

A few days later Sam was in Connecticut. He had just gotten back from his morning jog when he walked into his motel room. Room number 15. His shirt was drenched in sweat and his legs were tired.

"I need a shower." Sam muttered to himself. The tall man began to strip his way to the shower, leaving his clothes haphazardly on the floor. Turning the shower knob all the way up. On most showers it would burn his skin but he's used this one enough to know hot was still cold. Sam stepped in waiting for it to warm up. His minded started wandering like it always did when he was in the shower. Garth hadn't called Sam since he was in Maine and Sam didn't blame him. He had snapped at Garth because he was worried about Dean. But his older brother would be fine, he always was. Sam reached for the body wash and almost knocked it off the shelf it was perched on, still continuing to think about Dean. Maybe if he called Garth, Dean would still be there. Then what? If his older brother even talked to him, it would probably be to laugh in his face. The last time they talked it didn't even involve talking. It was all yelling and arguing. Sam was surprised fists didn't start flying.


End file.
